


Mad House

by velvetcadence



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Break Up, Bug!porn, Charles is a Duck, Cherik as Cattle, Cherik as Pants, Cherik as Socks, Cherik as Toothbrushes, Cherik as Turtles, Cherik as Writing Utensils, Cherik as handheld gadgets, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Hilarity Ensues, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 8,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcadence/pseuds/velvetcadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens on Tumblr doesn't always stay on Tumblr. </p><p>The best (the worst) of velvetcadence's crack ficlets.</p><p>18: Charles and Erik are drunk, start waxing poetic about the view of Emma’s fluffy cat from under her glass table.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trousers AU

**Author's Note:**

> As [pants.](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com/post/54811302037/kingofmetalandblood-so-these-are-two-pair-of) Here's to you and your excellent Cherik spotting skills, [Alek.](http://kingofmetalandblood.tumblr.com/)

Erik had never really thought of himself as a pair of shy trousers, but feeling his fabric touch Charles’ made his pleats quiver. He wasn’t sure how long it took Charles to notice that he was right behind him. Charles was newly washed and felt warm to the touch, dangling very elegantly on his hanger. Erik had never been so close before. Charles belonged to the other closet, but Erik wasn’t about to complain about his sudden bout of good luck.

“…Hi.” Erik eventually said, very softly. Immediately after he wanted to crumple up in a heap and die. It was so strangely embarrassing.

Charles perked up and brushed against him in a very friendly manner, as if they were very good friends. At best, Erik thought, they were acquaintances. Save for the one time they were unceremoniously dumped onto the floor and forced to make awkward small talk, they hadn’t spoken with each other at all, although Erik had always admired Charles’ plaid pattern and the cut of his cloth.

“Erik, my friend! How have you been?” Charles was always so jovial, light like his coloring.

“Very well. And you?”

“I’m lovely, thank you. I’d just come out from the wash. There’s a new maid, did you know? I like her, although the other clothes are cranky to have been placed in the wrong closets. I don’t mind it if it means I get to talk to you now. I haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Yes, well. My owner rather prefers the new jeans nowadays.”

Charles gave a sympathetic rustling sound. “I’m sure he’ll wear you again soon. It would be a shame if he didn’t. You’ve got beautiful coloring." The buttons on him gleamed.

The inside of Erik's pockets fluttered, though he tried his best not to show it. “…I do?”

“Why, yes.” Charles stated, slightly baffled. “How can you not know? Your check pattern is stunning! And I’ve always had a type for tweed.”

Erik said nothing. Charles worried he might have said too much. When Erik tentatively touched his cuff to his and ever so slightly leaned in, Charles beamed, suddenly shy as well, before meeting Erik halfway and pressing them together cloth to cloth.

 


	2. Centipedes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik is scared shitless of centipedes. Charles to the rescue!
> 
> Prompted by: "OH SWEET BABY JESUS THERE’S A CENTIPEDE IN THE BATHROOM! OH! OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD IT’S HUGE! PAUL! PAUL COME KILL IT!"

Charles was enjoying his tea in the kitchen when the hair on his arms stood on end, preceded by a shot of devastating fear. For a moment, it felt like his very soul had left him.

“CHARLES!” Erik shouted from upstairs, voice hoarse, his mind cold. Charles’s mug crashed to the floor in his haste.

_Erik! What’s wrong? Stay put, I’m coming up!_

Erik gave the mental equivalent of a whimper. Charles threw the door to the bedroom with a bang. Erik was sprawled backwards on the floor, facing the bathroom with the most petrified look on his face. Charles immediately inspected him for any injuries.  _Darling, are you hurt? Are you in pain? What’s the matter?_

Erik’s teeth clacked, and what stuttered out was an impressive mimicry of one of Sean’s banshee wails. “ _T-t-t-tausendfüßler_!” He eventually let out, gesturing wildly at the bathroom. Charles thanked God he was a telepath, or else he wouldn’t have been able to understand Erik half the time. Before he was able to let up, Erik grabbed a fistful of Charles’ cardigan, pulling him in. “ _Charles, there’s a fucking centipede in the bathroom. Fuck, there’s a fucking **centipede**  in the bathroom!_” The man scrambled up towards the bed as if the ground were infested with it.

“Shhhhh,” Charles soothed worriedly, smoothing his hands over Erik’s hair, pulling him in so that he was held up against Charles’ torso, his face hidden into the fabric. “Breathe, love. You’re alright. You’re alright. It hasn’t bitten you.” Erik screamed into Charles’ shirt in response. Charles smacked himself on the forehead for putting his foot in his mouth again.

“ _It’s going to come in the room, Charles! You have to kill it! It’s huge! **It’s huge**!_ ”

Charles cupped the sides of Erik's face, stilling the gibberish spilling out of his mouth. “I will, I will, but first you have to calm down.”

“ _There’s no fucking time, you have to kill it now or it’s going to kill you too!”_ Erik’s hysteria was starting to get to Charles. The thought of approaching the bathroom now was slightly terrifying. Who knew what kind of demon insect could send Erik into such a fit?

However, when he entered the bathroom, all he found was a curled up insect napping near the tub drain. It looked, for all intents and purposes, bored. “Huh,” Charles said, poking at it with the end of a toothbrush. He didn’t notice the other centipede crawling towards him until it was near his big toe. “Bugger fuck!”

 _This one_  was probably the one that scared Erik shitless, Charles thought as he scrambled up on the toilet, the cover mercifully pulled down. Centipede #2 looked up at him with a menacing glare, easily as long as Charles’ hand and as thick as two of his fingers.

…That’s gonna be hard to kill. Charles hemmed and hawed for a long minute before making up his mind. It was time to call for reinforcements.  _RAVEN?_


	3. The Sock AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Socks have a lot of feels okay

It had been far too long before Erik had had a partner. They came in a pack of six at half off, he and his brethren, although he mourns for them now, long lost to the laundry room or to other closets. He mourns Magda the most. He’d lost her to the corgi, bitten and chewed until her cotton toe frayed and the humans had no choice but to carry her off to places unknown.

Erik hid under the bed until the spring came. There he gathered dust and stewed in his fear, for what was a lone sock to do? Socks lived in twos. An unpaired sock was a useless sock, and what was the fate of useless socks? Thrown into the garbage or torn to scraps. Better to toss him to the dog now so that he would not have to wait in dreadful anticipation.

Until one day, another sock chanced upon his hiding place, dropped carelessly to the floor. It looked to be his age, and Erik knew in an instant that they were cut of the same cloth.

“I thought I was alone,” Erik said.

Charles, for this sock was named Charles, was also unpaired. “You’re not alone Erik,” He said, and what he really meant was that  _he_  wasn’t alone either. They had found each other. “You’re not alone.


	4. The Infamous Toothbrush AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Tumblr, even our [toothbrush porn](http://24.media.tumblr.com/d484ec565fc96c50183da603a79fdd86/tumblr_mqkur1mSOl1qah4rlo1_1280.jpg) is gay porn. Trufax.

"Your bristles are so soft," Charles remarked as he lay down beside Erik, their handles touching intimately. 

"I’ve never touched anybrush like this before," Erik said, leaning in so that their bristles aligned in a sudden burst of friction. "Oh!"

“ _Well_  then, my friend,” Charles quirked his dual-cleaning tips playfully. “Let me take you all the way.”


	5. A Bug's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bug porn. A lot of ridiculousness.
> 
> Kudos to Treasuredleisure who makes the [best](http://media.tumblr.com/a6293111c551f96cb8e88f202de804e4/tumblr_inline_mruw8kSiFX1qz4rgp.png) [things](http://media.tumblr.com/acf58181007419155b464dd17b88e9fd/tumblr_inline_mruw98LAWm1qz4rgp.png).
> 
> If you manage to read this without facepalming, I will be very impressed. Very impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legit List of Terms:
> 
> abdomen - the large round portion of a bug, bug butt
> 
> aphids - tiny, soft-bodied bugs that suck on plants and expel honeydew. some species fully rely on the honey ants to “tend” or “milk” them as they have lost the ability to do so themselves.
> 
> gaster - the latter end of the ant, ant butt
> 
> honey ants - “farm” aphids for their honeydew, in turn they protect them from predators. will occasionally move aphids to more nutritious spots
> 
> ladybugs - heavily armored bugs that eat soft and squishy bugs for food (like aphids), produce toxin that they push into opponents’ mouths (sometimes other ladybugs) and cannibalize other ladybugs’ eggs. in other words, they’re Voldemort
> 
> mandible - “jaw” part of the ant
> 
> tarsus - bug foot
> 
> thorax- the middle segment of a bug; kind of a human torso

“Pssst, Charles! Don’t look now but your hunky boyfriend’s approaching,” Raven whispered, nudging Charles’ abdomen with a leg. The aforementioned aphid turned around and was greeted by the sight of the most handsome ant he’d ever laid compound eyes on.

“Raven, stop poking me! I heard you the first time.”

“Hey, Charles,” Erik greeted, stopping right in front of him.

“…Hi.”

Behind Erik, Raven gagged and waved her antenna suggestively at Erik’s impressively-sized gaster before leaving. Charles stomped on the leaf. Rude girl.

“Ready for your milking?”

“Yes, Erik.” Charles shivered as the honey ant stroked his antennae over his skin, causing a tiny spurt of honeydew to bead out of Charles’ alimentary canal. “Oh!”

“You’ve been holding it in for me all day, haven’t you?”

“Please, Erik. I’m so full,” Charles whined.

“Shhh. Just relax and let me take care of you.” Erik held Charles aloft with careful mandibles, supporting his weight with his forelegs. He walked them to a more private setting, which was the other side of the stem, hiding themselves near the axil of the leaf stalk.

Charles sighed when Erik caressed him, already soothed and ready to be milked. The honeydew came readily enough, and Erik lapped it up, taking care not to miss a drop.

“Mmmm…” The aphid wiggled his legs in delight as Erik used a leg to lightly scratch his thorax. “Oh! Ah, Erik!”

Erik squeezed him playfully, making Charles flinch in delight. The action caused him to release a particularly large droplet, which Erik sucked at with gusto.

When at last Charles was wrung dry, shivering with pleasure and properly tended to, Erik put him back on the leaf and ran a careful antenna over his abdomen and thorax, paying particular attention to a sensitive spot in the segment in between. Charles didn’t have mandibles like the honey ant did, his body was soft and made for sucking the juices of plants, but theirs was a relationship that worked.

_Symbiosis_ , Charles often thought. The way of the world. Erik had a more banal view on life. “We’re meant to eat or be eaten, Charles, there’s no in-between.” Despite this, however, he often told Erik that life was like setting upon a new plant to eat—you never knew what you were going to get.

“Erik! Hey!” Sean, one of the other worker ants was hollering from the other side of the stem. “Break time’s over, we’ve got rocks to haul!”

“I’m coming!” Erik snapped irritably. “If you don’t leave I’ll swear to the Queen I’m gonna push you off the plant.”

Sean gasped, having been threatened (and indeed almost pushed off the plant) before. It didn’t take much to have him scuttling off where he came from.

“Erik, you really should know better than to scare the younger ants. They look up to you.”

“Tch.” Nevertheless, Erik picked Charles up once again to deposit him on a fresh leaf, petting his backside teasingly.

“You’re going to be late if you keep on doing that.”

“Once more?”

“No, I’m all tired out! Go to work.”

“Well, someone has to protect the colony,” Erik joked, stroking him once more before leaving.

Charles went back to the leaf and sucked at it rather dreamily. Being tended to by Erik always left him in a slightly confused state, not that he ever minded. Raven knew long by now that it was best to leave him alone for a little while. Which was why when somebug landed rather heavily on the tip of the leaf, he knew that something was atarsus.

“Well, well, well,” Sebastian the ladybug flapped his wings together to make a sharp sound.

“How rude!” Charles remarked. “As you can see, I’m in the middle of feeding. Nothing to see here, you can kindly move along.”

The ladybug ignored this and continued on, “Little aphid, do you know what I do to soft, defenseless bugs?”

“For a ladybug, you’re no lady at all.”

“What—no I’m not—it’s just a name!” Sebastian sputtered. “I’m male!”

“That’s…” Charles trailed off. “Rather unfortunate. Would you like to talk about it?”

“I don’t need to talk about anything,” Sebastian huffed. “I’m here to eat you.”

“That’s very good and all, but I’m sensing a lot of inner turmoil. Are you sure you don’t want to talk? I hear it helps if you let your issues out.”

“Well.” Sebastian tapped a foreleg against a leaf vein. “There was one time a fellow ladybug ate my eggs. Perhaps I’m still frustrated over that.”

“My condolences,” Charles said evenly. “Tell me more about it.”

“Well I…suppose it's karmic justice after I got rid of the mother when she wouldn't give up custody—”

“Charles!” Raven shouted from above him, just as Erik came charging in with a whole troupe of honey ants.

“Aha!” Sebastian sneered, baring the full span of his wings. “Erik. So we meet again.”

“Shaw,” Erik spat with vehemence. “I would have known it was you skulking about. Back off. Back off!”

“Oh, is this your aphid? I might have known.” Sebastian scuttled closer to Charles, pinning his soft body down with a leg. “Do excuse me, my boy,” He told the aphid. “It’s nothing personal. Well, actually it is, but I do appreciate the bit of civility. Even if I really didn’t need it or particularly care for it.”

“Eri—” Charles gasped as Sebastian pressed harder on his underbelly.

“Any closer and I’ll bite his head off. You choose.”

The air stood heavy with tension. Erik held the honey ants back, seeing Charles choking under the weight of Sebastian’s leg. “Let him go. I’ll fight you for him.”

“Oho!” Sebastian hummed. “I haven’t had a proper duel in a while. Why not? To the death this time, Erik. I won’t be so forgiving now.”

“Erik, please,” Charles tried to plead with him, but Erik was resolute, and as quickly as he was back in Erik’s grip, his honey ant had turned away again to face Sebastian.

It was a hard battle. Sebastian was easily thrice Erik’s size and heavily protected. His armor wasn’t perfect, however, and there were gaps into which a smart ant could introduce his stinger. Erik had dreamed of the day he could finally lay this beast to rest, and today seemed that day. Sebastian was a skilled foe, and every jab of Erik’s mandible was returned in kind, every hit given a counterattack. The ladybug reared fiercely, but Erik was quick, and with a powerful stab to the junction between Sebastian’s head and armor, he was felled.

Other ants quickly came to hold the ladybug down, taking care not to touch the noxious yellow substance it had emitted during the battle. Charles was sick with worry, and he could only be soothed when Erik drew near enough to touch.

“Erik, darling,” Charles cooed. Erik rubbed their antennae together, tired but no worse for wear. They had thought their worries were over when another ladybug landed on the leaf, equally as terrifying as the one that came before it. The ants immediately crowded around it, ready to attack.

“Hmph!” Emma the ladybug said, “What a droll little community. Cease and desist at once, you're all beneath my list of priorities.” Still, they were wary, and would not be at ease. “Ahem,” she daintily cleared her throat. “Calm. Yo. Tits. I’m not here to cause trouble.”

The ants immediately calmed. “Oh,” they said. “Why didn’t you just say?”

Another ant whispered, “What’s a tit?”

“Oh good,” she flicked her antennae saucily. “I was just passing by when I saw that Sebastian died. What are you going to do with him now?”

“Uh, push him off the leaf, I guess?”

Sebastian gurgled from underneath the ants, apparently still alive. “Oh, you smarmy bastard,” Emma murmured, before ending Sebastian once and for all with her own poison.

“Thank…you?” The ants stepped back.

“No problem, sugar. Some ladybugs can't understand the subtle nuances of territorial contracts, so I’m glad to do away with that deplorable wretch.”

“What? What did she say?”

Emma sighed. “You imbeciles.” She cleared her throat again. “Dude, I was so done with that shit.  No more drama bombs, you get me? But thanks for the entertainment." She nodded at Erik. "Dayum son.” Ignoring their agog stares, she daintily scuttled towards the tip of the leaf and flew away.

“Well,” Charles remarked, “this was a rather interesting day.”

“Dayum son,” Erik agreed.

And they lived happily ever after, the end.


	6. The one about the phone and his phone charger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by Kageillusionz over at [tumblr](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com/post/81158137821/the-forbidden-love-between-phone-and-phone-charger).

Erik was long ago the latest cellphone model of his generation. He was beautiful and he knew it, his corners were curved just so, painted a fusion of sleek magenta and black, the 540 x 960 resolution impressive on a phone so thin and weighing exactly 145 grams. He came in the box with a phone charger named Charles, who was friendly as friendly could be. Erik couldn’t deny that there was a spark between them, but he had his pride, and it wouldn’t be seemly for a phone of his caliber to cling to his charger so.

Charles thought differently. Charles loved the moments he and Erik joined together as one, brief as the affair lasted. Charles often waxed poetic about Erik’s lithium-ion battery (“It’s the best kind of battery there is, Erik. You’ve got the grooviest energy-to-mass ratio.”) and his 1.2 GHz Dual-core processor when they were joined. He liked making Erik’s LCD light up with his compliments.

In the beginning, Charles only ever saw Erik every five days. Their owner seldom texted or called, and Erik’s ability to attain a slow loss of charge when not in use made him convenient. Erik didn’t want to admit that he missed Charles during those five days. Proper cell phones tried to stay away from their chargers. It would be a weakness to admit that he needed Charles.

Charles was vocal enough for the both of them. When his owner began calling and texting a special number frequently, Erik’s capacity to store energy dwindled, but he found that he didn’t mind being plugged by Charles as much as he did before.

As a matter of fact, he looked forward to the days when Charles filled the empty space of his charger slot like a missing puzzle piece. He always emerged frightened from a cellphone death. It wasn’t painful; it was like being inactive and going to sleep, but the difference between death and sleep was that Erik could wake up from a sleep anytime he wanted, and a death was the slow, helpless state of trying to keep ions active within his circuitry and failing. Charles comforted him best after the electric surge of being plugged in. And Erik knew every time he revived that if he didn’t have Charles, he’d cease to exist.

They were both getting old now. Erik had excellent memory, 16GB in fact, and today would mark the six years to the day he and Charles were paired together in the box. Today would also mark Erik’s retirement from human use, and he and Charles were to be returned to their original home, to be stored in a corner of their owner’s room. A new Apple iPhone would be replacing Erik’s Motorola Razr Maxx model. He’d be indignant if he were younger, but in this day and age, he was old and practically obsolete.

It was almost ceremonial, the way their owner fit Erik back in the styrofoam mold and neatly tied Charles’ cord together. The two of them lay together in the darkness for an interminable amount of time before Charles reached over and fit himself in Erik’s charging slot, as Erik’s battery slowly slipped into another death. Only this time, they knew Erik probably wouldn’t be able to emerge from that for a long, long time.

"Sleep well, my dear," Charles said.

"Goodnight, Charles," Erik whispered, even as his screen dimmed.

They needn’t have worried. A week and 250 miles later, Erik woke up in a new owner’s house, with Charles still lovingly connected to him. “Hello, Erik. Welcome back,” he beamed.


	7. Phone/Charger Bonus Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Erik titillatingly confesses that Charles "excites his electrons". A bonus scene to the phone/charger fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Turtletotem.

Erik is being strangely quiet today, Charles notices. Then he remembers—oh, he’s on silent mode. They’re in class. Charles desperately wants to touch Erik, to slot themselves together so that they’ll never be apart, but Erik is holding himself apart despite the tiny space they’ve been placed in.

He doesn’t know what to do with this sudden shyness. Or is it animosity? Charles dreads to think that he’d done something to warrant Erik’s ill-temper. He’s high-strung, his Erik, and though he doesn’t resent the trait, he has to sometimes remind himself it’s simply because Erik is a smartphone; accelerometers add quirks not found in other phones.

"Erik," Charles ventures. "Are you alright?"

It takes the phone a while to respond, and when he does, the glow of his screen is so bright against the inside of the bag. “…Yes. Why do you ask?”

"You’re not sick?"

"Of course not. My antivirus program is up to date."

"So why are you avoiding me?"

Try as Erik might, Charles still manages to catch the sudden pink glow of his screen. How interesting. “I…”

"Yes?" When Erik refuses to answer for the longest time, Charles wraps his cord around Erik comfortingly. "I can wait all day if I have to. I regularly manage to wait five."

"Stop it, Charles. You’re making me nervous."

"Am I?"

"You are. You excite my electrons, and you make my circuit board freeze up. Sometimes you’re all that occupies my memory chip. I’ve been trying not to say anything in case it ruins everything, but I…I won’t function the same if you don’t feel the way I feel."

For a minute, Charles was completely stunned, which for a charger was a feat in itself. Chargers were meant to be conduits after all, not the recipients of energy, but at that moment Charles felt like lightbulbs must feel—bright with happiness and heat. “You know, for a smartphone, you’re rather thick. Don’t you know how much I adore you?”

"Did you just call me fat—oh. Me t-too." Erik stuttered as Charles finally, _finally_ joined them together, beeping loudly in surprise when Charles pushed enough energy at him to make his battery ping in delight.


	8. The Notebook (and Pen) AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having black paper doesn't mean you're useless. It just means you need to find a pen with white ink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, prompted by Kageillusionz over at [tumblr](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com/post/81564513962/the-forbidden-love-between-pen-and-paper).

The bell above the door rings, but Charles pays it little mind. He’s been in this cozy little bookshop for years, sold from the original retailer at half-price, more of a donation than anything. The fellow notebooks beside him perk up, sitting a little straighter and smoothing out their edges. _The new customer looks like they write,_ they whisper. _Maybe they’ll pick one of us._

 _Silly things always get like this,_ Charles thinks, with not a little disdain. He can’t fault them, however. It’s every notebook’s dream to be tattooed with beautiful, beautiful ink. Fortunately, Charles has long relieved himself of that impossible dream. He’s a realist. What on earth would anyone want with a notebook with black pages? He’s practically useless to anybody as is.

The notebooks are right, though. Customer comes up to their shelf and starts flipping through their pages, one by one. Each of them prays to be picked, to be brought home and be given life, to finally have their purposes realized. _Their hands are cold!_ one of the smaller notebooks titters. _But you know what they say, cold hands have warm hearts._

Charles, not to his surprise, gets picked last. He’s the notebook that’s always pushed to the back of the shelf. However, when he’s chosen, he’s handled with surprising care. He hears Customer gasp as his pages are flipped, revealing the darkness of his insides. He’s hideous, he knows, and although he’s had his fair share of being passed over, he still has a spirit that hurts every time they look at him strangely.

Customer doesn’t return him to the shelf when they’re done. Charles’ spine stays rigid, although a tentative hope starts to seed within him. It swells and sinks into him like ink when they tuck him under their arm. With the ringing of the till, Customer becomes Owner, changing Charles’ existence irrevocably.

Owner is gentle with him. Charles’ paper isn’t thin by any means, but he loves the way they touch him, admiring the smoothness of his pages. Their desk is a mess of paint and scattered pens, but Charles hardly dares to complain when he is finally home. Owner uncaps a pen, a beautiful metal pen that gleams silver like a dream. What joy, what ecstasy! What a pleasure to finally be touched by the fine point of a writing instrument! As Owner writes, a universe private to them opens, and Charles whispers to himself the sweet words of love made immortal in his very pages.

He is so, so alive when it’s over. The poem had been written in cursive, and it shines silver when Charles is tipped to the light. He cannot stop himself from quivering in delight when Owner leaves to let the ink dry.

“Thank you, my friend,” he tells the pen, half in love.

“I’d never known a anybook whose pages were so handsome,” the pen replies. “For so long I’d waited in despair to be used.”

“As have I. But you’re not alone, not anymore.”

Owner leaves Charles at the desk within easy reach. It keeps him in close proximity to the pen, Erik, who has a dry sense of humor when he’s amused and is so eloquent with romance. The other pens don’t approve of their love affair, but that’s only because the other pens are jealous; they don’t have what Charles and Erik have. Once they had pitied Erik for his lack of use. Now they detest him for Owner’s favoritism. It isn’t an easy life, but it is a life worth having when every night he is able to tattoo how much he adores Charles onto his skin.

They know their love is finite. Charles accepts this and counts the pages yet to be filled. Who knows when Erik’s barrel finally empties out of ink? Who knows how much time they have left to be together before Owner tires of writing?

It is easier not to worry about the future when Charles has Erik tucked in between his pages, relishing in the closeness. They do this every night when Owner sleeps, to the point that Charles’ pages start to curve to make a distinct Erik-shaped space between them.

One day, Owner takes them out to the beach. Charles doesn’t like it. The sand is getting _everywhere,_ especially in places he never even knew existed. Erik laughs at him even as he dots the tittle on an ‘i’. The wind is making his pages flap wildly, and Charles fusses, but Erik doesn’t even notice, still admiring of the way his ink smoothly runs on Charles’ paper. Owner leaves Charles on the sand to let him dry, walking away with Erik in hand.

Charles waits indefinitely. The sun sets; the tide rises and soaks his pages, making Erik’s ink run. When it’s clear that Owner has forgotten him, he weeps.

* * *

 

It’s been weeks since Erik last saw Charles. Owner had been frantic when they realized that Charles was missing, but they’d forgotten that they left Charles on the sand and not in the bag or the car. Erik had never felt so helpless or so irate at Owner before. Good pens never stabbed their humans, but Erik couldn’t feel any remorse when he struck the hand that held him. The human yelped, throwing the pen towards the wall in frustration. Even though Erik instigated it, he felt betrayed. How could Owner love them and leave them like this?

He had rolled under the bed and stayed there, mourning. Charles was his entire world, his reason for existence. Now that he was gone, Erik was back to being decorative. He might as well have been thrown to the trash.

 _Oh no,_ Erik thought. What fates could befall his black beloved? Charles could have been swept away into the ocean. Or discovered by creatures of all sorts of ill-manner. Torn apart page by page, left to the mercy of the elements. Erik had felt sick with worry and grief, and would not be consoled or found even after Owner searched for him extensively the next day.

A week had passed. Owner stopped looking for him by then.

Another week passed. Erik remained resolutely in his hiding place.

On the seventeenth day without Charles, a special package arrives. Owner walks in with an envelope in their arms, and when they open it at their desk, Erik can hear the other writing utensils gasp.

 _Charles!_ the letter opener exclaims. _You’re back!_

Alarmed, Erik rolls out from under the bed to peek. He can’t see from his place on the floor, so he moves until he bumps into Owner’s heel.

“There you are,” Owner says. “It must be my lucky day today.”

 _Charles?_ Erik whispers, _Is that you?_

 _Erik._ The notebook sags even more in relief. _I thought I’d never see you again._

The doorbell rings. Owner walks out of the bedroom to answer it, leaving Charles and Erik free to reconnect in peace. Charles looks…Charles looks worse for wear. His beautiful pages are salt-crusted and wrinkled from seawater, and his once-immaculate corners have curls and tearings. He opens wider than he usually does, and there is a clear bend where his pages are bound together.

“Oh, my love,” Erik moans in despair. “Your spine.”

Charles closes shut, and turns away. “You left me on the beach.”

“I’m sorry,” Erik says. He doesn’t know what else to say. “Tell me what happened. How do I make it better?”

“You can’t. I’m crippled now. Ugly. Useless.”

“Don’t you ever say that. Not now when we’re together again.”

“You could write on any other paper if you wanted,” Charles tells him sadly. “You’re a pen. The possibility for you is endless.”

“I may not even be able to write anymore,” Erik quietly confesses. “I fell to the floor not long after you were lost.”

Charles becomes quiet after that, but he opens once more and pleads for Erik to tuck himself between his pages. Erik has been careless with himself, scratches on his once-impeccable surface and dust in the little spaces of his parts. It doesn’t make him any less handsome in Charles’ view. He tells Erik so.

“I feel the same,” Erik professes. “You are still mine, as I am yours.”

They hear Owner’s steps approaching and reluctantly part, taking their places where the human had left them. They handle Charles just as gently as that first day at the shop, running their fingers over his pages. Despite his state of wear, he had been able to grasp onto the love poems Erik had written on his paper. It had taken all of Charles’ efforts and willpower not to let the ink fade from him.

Owner uncaps the pen and glides his nib across a fresh page, and Charles and Erik share sighs of relief when the ink continues to flow uninhibited.

 _i love you as_  
permanently as ink  
onto paper

Unfortunately, Erik’s barrel empties just after the last word. Owner shakes him and tries to write more, but Erik’s point only presses indents of words on the notebook. They sigh in disappointment before capping him for the last time.

 _Erik,_ Charles quietly chokes. They both know what happens to empty pens.

 _You’ll be alright, Charles,_ Erik murmurs in reassurance. No matter what happens, Charles will always remain valuable to Owner for the words he houses within his pages. It makes accepting his fate easier to bear, so long as he knows Charles will be safe.

He waits for the moment Owner throws him away, but they don’t do it. Instead they clip Erik’s arm onto Charles’ cover and place him in the shelf above the desk, along with the other finished notebooks.

“My word,” Charles says, long after the human leaves. He’s so overcome with joy he’s shaking with it, the leaves of his pages trembling.

“We’ll never be apart again,” Erik declares, though he too is still slightly incredulous. “Charles, I promise I’ll never leave you. Never again.”

“I believe you,” Charles tells him. “If I ever forget, all I’d have to do is look at myself to know how exquisitely you love me.”

Erik gently presses his weight against Charles, completely sincere when he says, “That I do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you can appreciate Charles saying "my word" more when you realize he's a notebook.


	9. Cattle Puns of the Highest Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Charles is a dairy cow at a farm. Erik is a retired and badly injured fighting bull who is also very infatuated with Charles the dairy cow."
> 
> Funny punny edition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For icedjellytea AKA ebonytavern.

"Hey Charles," Erik the bull professed. "You look really handsome today."

"Very amoosing, my friend," Charles laughed. "As if I haven’t herd that before. You better try harder."

Erik bared his teeth in a grin. He couldn’t help it. Now that Charles was talking to him, he was going to milk this for all it’s worth. He better get this right; the steaks were high. “You’re sheer and udder perfection. Your coat is the shiniest I’ve ever seen on any living cattle and your eyes are the loveliest shade of blue.”

"How dairy you be so charming," Charles exclaimed. "Oh, Erik, I never knew you could be so romantic."

"I’ve barely grazed the surface. I cud go on all day."

"Not without proper mootivation,” Charles winked.

The other cows groaned at them and tried not to tip over from extreme exposure to puns.


	10. Another Phone/Charger Snippet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [here](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com/post/83314898353/kageillusionz-ambientheif-jackthemother).

Charles vibrates irritatedly. “Stop it. I don’t appreciate you poking around where you’re not wanted.”

Sebastian coils his cord around the iPhone and continues messing around his charger slot. ”But your hole’s so loose. I can tell that you’re begging for it.”

"Ha ha," Charles beeps. "I assure you, Erik’s bigger and infinitely more satisfying. No other charger can compare. Go harass your own model, Shaw."

"I suggest you do as the phone says," Erik threatens, coiling up from the desk corner. He’s plugged into the socket and charged and ready, looming menacingly at the smaller cord.

Shaw sullenly steps aside as Erik gently slots himself inside Charles, who sighs and beeps loudly about how Erik is the best, the best, the very  _very_  best.


	11. Charles and Erik's Real Ideological Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #I FEEL LIKE THE REAL IDEOLOGICAL DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ERIK AND CHARLES #WOULD BE THE FACT THAT CHARLES WOULD WANT TO HAVE SEX TO ‘A GROOVY KIND OF LOVE’ #AND ERIK WOULD WANT A RINGING SILENCE PUNCTUATED BY CHARLES’ AWKWARD BREATHING (via mutantism)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt [here](http://sasheenka.tumblr.com/post/83292974706/mutantism-i-feel-like-the-real-ideological).

"Turn that thing off." 

Charles looks up from where he’s kneeling in front of the CD player as the first few strains of Phil Collins’ A Groovy Kind of Love fills the bedroom. Erik’s face is stamped with Clearly Not Amused. Charles ignores him and mouths along to the lyrics.

"Charles, no."

“ _But wouldn’t you agree, baby, you and me, got a groovy kind of love?_ ”

"It’s trite."

"It is not! Wait, listen, this is the best part."

"Ugh." Erik attempts to smother himself with the pillow. "You’ve made me listen to this so many times before."

"Don’t you think it describes us perfectly? It’s groovy."

"It is not." Erik grumps, and the player abruptly stops. Charles hops off the bed and runs back to it. 

"Damn, it’s jammed! Erik, don’t do this!" Charles says, smacking at the infernal thing. 

"It’s fine. Come back to bed. We want the same thing," Erik pats the space beside him suggestively, then draws the sheet back with a flourish. Charles turns back and dramatically sheds a tear for his broken music player.

"I’m sorry my friend, but we do not."


	12. Sweet, Sweet Lovin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt [here](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com/post/81667096170/sex-in-a-kiddie-pool-of-something-sticky-gummy-food)

"What," Erik begins, his eyebrow rising straight up to his hairline, "are you doing?"

Charles looks at him over his sunglasses—no, Erik is not falling for The Smolder, not again, dammit—and smirks. Save for the glass of what looks like water in his hand and his shades (how absurd, they’re indoors), he’s as naked as the day he was born.

Upon closer inspection, Erik finds that the inflatable kiddie pool set up in the living room is filled with gummy candy. And not just any gummy candy. It’s the [ass-with-ears candy](http://www.uproxx.com/filmdrunk/2014/02/german-candy-allows-eat-ass-ears/) all the way from Germany Charles has been waiting weeks for.

"Are you high?" Erik demands.

"I might be a little drunk," Charles admits. 

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Fuck off, Watson," Charles giggles, and he is  _definitely_  drunk. “Come join me. The water’s great.”

"The water isn’t water at all."

"Haven’t you ever wanted to dive in asses? Come on, live a little."

"It’s not quite what I’m expecting."

“ _Please?_ " Charles asks. "Please please please with sugar and sprinkles and chocolate and cherries on top?"

"My god, shut up, I’m coming."

Charles smirks and lays back, spreading his legs to accommodate Erik despite the relatively large amount of space available. “This is disgusting,” Erik complains. “It’s a waste of candy.”

"It’s not if I get to say I’m swimming in little butts."

"I’m not eating this shit."

"Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ve eaten about half the tub. Give me two more hours and they’ll all be gone by then."

Erik frowns incredulously at him. “How are you still alive?”

Charles shrugs. Erik takes the glass from him and takes a sip. Vodka. Should have known. “You know you’re courting a sugar high, right?”

"I’m counting on it," Charles breathes out, his hand trailing down to his half-hard cock. "If I ate enough candy, do you think I’d start to taste like one?"

Despite himself, Erik really can’t help himself from grinning. “Let’s find out.”

Charles’ toes curl when Erik bends over and kisses the flat of his abdomen, little sucking kisses that make him moan. He tries not to laugh at how he has to dig through the candy to roll Charles’ balls in his palm, knowing how much he likes it, orchestrating a gentle tug with each upward stroke when he swallows Charles’ prick in his mouth. 

He lets him go with a gentle pop, tonguing the wetness dribbling out of the slit. “I don’t know, Charles. You don’t taste any sweeter than usual.”

"Erik, please."

Erik smiles and kisses the vein at the underside of the shaft, pumping Charles steadily while he sucks at the tip, driving him crazy. There’s a flush darkening Charles’ chest. Erik seizes a nipple between his lips just to tease him even more, and does the same to the other before he puts all of his attention back on Charles’ cock.

Charles’s fingers twine against his hair. He’s usually more attentive, but considering his sobriety (or lack thereof) he’s pulling harder than he means to. Erik doesn’t mind it if it means he’s successfully taking Charles’ control apart by its very seams.

He’s close, so close. Erik gives a powerful suck and lets his throat swallow against the head. Charles’ groans deeply and—there, that hitch of breath, there, that arch of his neck, bent back in abandon—he’s coming, filling Erik’s mouth with his pleasure.

Charles barely moves afterwards, and the look on his face is obscene, like he’s found Nirvana in an inflatable pool full of ass-ear candy and a blowjob. Erik pants and swallows everything, keeping Charles in his mouth until he softens simply because he likes the weight of him there. When Charles doesn’t respond after a minute, Erik realises he’d fallen asleep, the insufferable tit. He even still has his sunglasses on.

Erik rolls his eyes and picks up a gummy, biting off an ear and half a cheek. Once the novelty of it goes, it doesn’t really vary from any other gummy candy, but it’s not too bad. Trust Charles to get drunk and swim in candy. Really, what a dork.


	13. Erik, Charles and The Big Red Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turtle Erik and Charles encounter a strawberry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this post.](http://tinyturtlesbigfruit.tumblr.com/post/63410485206/octemberfirst-abqandnotu-merosse-tiny)

Erik and Charles were napping together on a dry spot in the turtle tank when Raven approached. Erik was the first to wake up, snapping his tiny jaws together from a yawn.

Their human bared its teeth at them, which meant it was in a good mood, and placed a Big Red Thing beside him. Erik retreated into his shell, immediately suspicious.

"Charles," he said. "Wake up!"

"Hmm…" Charles blinked awake, first opening one eye and then the other. "What is it?"

"There is a Thing in the Tank. There is a Thing in the Tank!"

"Calm your mind, Erik." Charles got up and looked. "Oh! How fascinating!"

"What do we do with it?"

"Fear not, my friend. Let us use our deductive skills as Turtle Investigators to solve the mystery of The Big Red Thing. Here, let me up your back."

Erik cocked his head in confusion when Charles started climbing on top of his shell. “Well?”

"It’s as big as both of us combined," Charles surmised. Erik wondered why it was relevant. "Hang on, I’ll try to—"

"Charles!"

Charles' little turtle legs flailed for a moment before he got his balance. He was now standing on The Big Red Thing. “Oh, Erik, you’re so handsome from this view!”

"Charles, get down from there before something happens!"

"Stop worrying. This is not my first day as Turtle Investigator." Charles began inspecting the Big Red Thing. It had a very interesting shell, with little yellow rocks all over it. "I think…mhmmm…mhmmm…oh yes."

Then Charles took a little bite of the Big Red Thing.

"Charles! Spit that out, that might be poison!"

Charles laughed. “Erik, it’s delicious!” He got down with Erik’s help and gave him a little turtle kiss, taking another bite from the Big Red Thing. “Can you smell that? It’s entirely eat-able!”

"Oh," Erik said, and cautiously nibbled at it. "It  _is_  good.”

"See?"

And for the rest of the morning, Erik and Charles shell-ebrated solving the mystery and happily enjoyed the Big Red Thing until it became a Little Red Thing, and then until it wasn’t a Thing anymore.


	14. Shrimp AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik isn't as shellfish as he thinks he is. 
> 
> Or, Cherik as mantis shrimps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pan is a gift that emerged from the mouth of an active volcano screaming ay papi.

“I should eat you where you stand.”

The fry hid behind a coral, although it was no match for Erik’s superior sexnocular gaze. Also, Erik could see its tail poking out.

“Please don’t! I just wanted to watch. The way you fight, it’s brilliant!”

Erik preened. He prized himself on his spears and his colorful carapace, a majestic mixture of magenta and red. The little shrimp crept closer, his own shell blue speckled with yellow. “I can’t believe you took Cain’s arm.”

“Cain?” Erik waved his raptorial appendage grandly. “Did you know that fiend?”

“My clutchbrother,” the fry said, “I never liked him.”

“I don’t like anyfish. Or anyshrimp for that matter,” Erik flatly stated. “You’re no exception. Leave before I eat you.”

“I’m far from home and I’ve been chased out of places I’ve wanted to burrow. Do you have room for a mate?”

“No. Go away, little fry.” Erik raised his spears menacingly at the silly thing, trying to scare him away. It had little effect. In fact it even seemed impressed.  _Great pearl_ , Erik thought,  _am I losing my touch_?

“I’ll be very quiet. You won’t even know I’m there.”

“You’re not making an argument annoying me now.” Erik turned away, tired and grumpy.

“Well, I’m—I’m useful. See?” The fry gathered its clubs and _smashed_  at the rock by their legs. It exploded into smithereens. Erik saw the the brief flash of light produced by the punch with his own six eyes. He rubbed at an eyestalk, slightly shaken.

“I’m very strong,” the fry insisted. “And when I snap my club back, the force is enough to generate cavitation bubbles that collapse and form a shock wave. Oh please let me stay, sir, there’s an octopus by the name of Shaw trying to eat me.”

“Fine,” Erik said. “But only if you can make enough room for yourself in the coral.”

“Done,” the fry cheekily said, already poised to make renovations to Erik’s home. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

“Erik. I’ll still probably end up eating you sooner or later,” he warned, although they both knew by now it was an empty threat.


	15. Friends for Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Imagine: only person A of your OTP is a duck - well kept and loved by person B. One day person B has a feast (family feast, celebration feast, whatever) and roasted duck is served. When person B asks about the duck, everyone looks away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sadder than the usual fare. Sorry.

Her baby was looking gaunt. It hurt Edie as a mother to think she wasn’t feeding him well enough, but war was tricky business. They could afford just enough to keep themselves from starving. Never mind the resentful whispers that Frau Lehnsherr was keeping a fat duck like a pet when it should be food. 

It had started out simply enough. Erik came home one day with a newly hatched duckling in his hands, begging to keep it. Edie had wondered about her son, who was from infancy solitary and quiet, but the duck made him happy and Erik loved the animal like his own. It was an unusual friendship to be sure, but Erik had always been an unusual boy.

Even when the winter came, the duck wouldn’t leave. It wouldn’t know how to, anyway. It had never learned how to fly with only humans for company. Erik kept it warm and bundled up inside the house even if Edie had opposed to it at first, but Charles (Erik had named it Charles, strange boy) never bothered anyone, least of all the mistress of the house. Erik fed it and bathed it it and held it in his arms constantly.

However, hard times called for hard decisions. Charles was eating better than Edie and Jakob and Erik combined, and Edie couldn’t deny that whenever she saw the duck she saw roast. It would be hard on Erik, but boys grew up to be men sooner than later. And for boys to grow, they’d have to eat.

Erik grieved over his finished dinner plate that night.


	16. Spin the Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even inanimate objects ship Cherik.

Bottle had tried, but teenage boys were so wilfully stupid it was going to take even more alcohol to get them to cooperate. Bottle had Dreams, damn it. Small dreams, but dreams all the same. Bottle was ambitious like that. Tonight Bottle was going to get those two shy humans that were googling each other since the start of the party together if it was the last thing Bottle did. Bottle Shipped It.

Now the humans were playing a game that involved spinning Bottle around and around. It was hard to gauge what they were getting at, at first, but Bottle was clever and managed to spin  _just so_ , pointing to one of the Shy Humans. The others laughed and dared him to kiss whoever they thought was the best-looking, and Bottle thought, Aw Yiss, it’s Happening.

Bottle really liked thinking in capital letters. It made things suitably more Dramatic.

Shy Human One was shuffling too slowly for anything to be happening, however, so Bottle casually rolled under his foot. Shy Human One pitched forward, landing in Shy Human Two’s lap. If Bottle had a voice, it would be screaming, “Now kiss!” The humans obeyed after an awkward eternity, and it was the highlight of Bottle’s night. All in a day’s work, really.


	17. How Now Brown Cow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com/post/96834104913/romaniantelevision-blackmagicstrega
> 
> Prompt: Cows love Magneto.
> 
> (Cows have inner compasses that make them face either north or south while grazing)

After another unfortunate run-in with the X-Men, Magneto awoke to find himself staring at a sky the same color of Charles’ eyes. He sighed, his attempts to seduce the professor into the just and righteous side of The Brotherhood thwarted once more.

Then the sky was eclipsed by a cow.

Magneto cursed and leaped away, only to discover in dismay that he had landed—of all the places in the world—on a cowpie. “My cape!” He bellowed dramatically as befitting a villain of his magnificence. Oh his poor cape!

The cow mooed and turned its big soulful eyes at him. Magneto’s eyes widened in response, and he cupped its large face in his hands. “How now brown cow?”

The cow mooed again.

"I see in the depths of your eyes the purity of the world," Magneto professed. They reminded him of his mother, and the cow they kept, and his childhood long gone. "And I regret that a creature so gentle and good as you must serve these filthy baselines that hardly appreciate you. Go free, my friend, and live life as Your Maker intended."

With a flourish of his hand, the bell hanging from its neck was flung away. Magneto attempted to shoo it off, but it only stayed put, its mild gaze fixed unto him. Magneto stepped around it and walked the other way. The cow turned to face him.

"Well, go on."

It blinked slowly at him, but stayed where it was. Magneto was moved to tears, for here was a creature so noble and pure that even when its chains were cast off, it chose to stay out of loyalty.

"I respect your decision to stay. Fair thee well, kind madam. I wish you a happy life." 

It mooed as Magneto floated majestically away, reorienting itself to see him off, that tender, loving creature.


	18. An Ode to Cats on Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik are drunk, start waxing poetic about the view of Emma’s fluffy cat from under her glass table. Most of the quotes were taken directly from this [buzzfeed video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1JT-3-ifoBk&list=UUpko_-a4wgz2u_DgDgd9fqA&src_vid=rIr091-LMGY&feature=iv&annotation_id=annotation_370083911) and this [tumblr post](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com/post/105162779539/fiberistanora-sashayed-like-no).

 “Do you know that feeling you get when you see a really cute thing and you just want to squeeze the life out of it?" Erik says, his voice is a deep rumble that makes the back of Charles’ neck tingle. It’s smokey and dark, like the coffee Charles had that morning, lingering at the back of his tongue even as it seeped warmth into his hands. Erik’s like that, he thinks, his head pleasant and floaty, an aftertaste he can’t quite rid of.

"Really?”

“I think,” Erik explains further, his elegant hands coming up to gesture at Victoire, “that what cats look like on glass is the physical embodiment of that feeling.”

“I think I understand.”

“Do you?” Erik’s hand falls back on his chest, and Charles wants to reach over and twine them together, for Erik to fill the empty spaces between Charles’ own fingers.

Instead, he says, “I think cats have a deeper understanding of glass than we give them credit for. It’s really using the glass to its full potential.”

Erik heaves a deep sigh. “Yeah, it’s just…mushing itself against the glass.”

“The tragedy is you can’t know what it feels like.”

“No, not really.”

“I think cats like that you can’t touch them through the glass. They’re presenting this great thing that they have, and they’re witholding it. I think they’re trying to teach us something.”

“They’re art. Some people think they’re fluid. Fluid solids. But I like to think of them as bags of sand.”

“I can see Turner, don’t you think? Steam Boat off a Harbor’s Mouth?”

“I’m thinking Alvakovsky. Or Samantha Keely Smith.”

Charles stares up at Victoire’s little pink feet and feels like he is sinking, or floating, up into the bright glow of an epiphany. “It’s like in museums where they cut things in half just so you could see what things in half look like. Now we know what’s inside of cats, it’s just…”

“…more cat,” Erik finishes, and he’s looking at Charles like he’s seeing a sunrise for the first time, his mouth open and soft. Charles doesn’t hesitate this time. He holds Erik’s hand and Erik says, “You know that feeling when you know you’ve found the other bookend of your soul?”

“Hm?”

“I think,” Erik whispers, leaning closer, “That your smile is the physical embodiment of that feeling."  

**Author's Note:**

> holler for more at [velvetcadence.tumblr.com](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com)


End file.
